


Worth

by raiast



Category: The OA (TV)
Genre: BBA is a BOSS, Drabble, Steve's trip to Asheville, character study(ish)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiast/pseuds/raiast
Summary: A little drabble dipping into Steve's mind during the Asheville scene.





	Worth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScarletteStar1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/gifts).



> Shout-out to my Star, who totally got me sucked into this fandom, thank you very much. ;) <3

Steve Winchell was not accustomed to feeling things like fear or panic. Those sort of emotions didn’t belong in a person like him. Instead, he channelled them to anger, sarcasm; things that were productive, protective, not weak. He had no desire for weakness of any sort; his body was a testament to that.

In the weeks since he met OA, since he and the others began meeting in secret to learn her story, he found that his anger and sarcasm had seemingly been tempered. There were still bolts of rage that split through him, certainly, and he still allowed himself to act on that fiery instinct from time to time (his little tussle with Sosa was evidence of one such instance). More and more, however, he found himself with a strange calmness more often than not. Even happy. 

Walking into his house to be confronted by his father, by the consequences of one of his more recent transgressions, Steve was seized with terror. His mind raced, breath came short as he stood beneath the stream of hot water, fighting back tears and mumbling a string of apologies, explanations, appeasements, desperately searching for that perfect one that might allow him to salvage the situation. Might save him.

He emerged from the shower and dressed, nerves still buzzing with anxiety, still attempting to choke down that bitter fear in his throat, but hopeful all the same. He had to be hopeful, the prospect of the situation being hopeless threatened to hurl him into a spiral of desolation that would consume him entirely.

He never got the chance to try. The goons from Asheville were already waiting when he returned downstairs. His father stood by as they struck his son, hauled him forcefully from their home and into a van. His pleas fell on deaf ears even when he tried to tell his father that he was  _ sorry, _ it was a  _ mistake, _ he was getting  _ better,  _ he could  _ change. _ His father didn’t care; Steve had finally crossed that final line and there was no getting back to the other side of it. There was only forward. To Asheville.

He resigned himself to his fate quicker than he would have liked, sat in brooding silence and despair while the men at the front of the van reflected on how well Steve’s worthless ass would fit in at their destination, mused cruelly about what his smart mouth would earn him.

He ignored them, let the insults stick in silence. It didn’t bother him; Steve had spent the majority of his life being told that he was worthless. And for the majority of his life, he believed it. He let himself play the roles everyone expected of him: troublemaker, bully, drug dealer. He worked on his body and his stunts and told himself that he had a plan, a dream, that one day he would be something more and achieve it in a way that no one could ignore. Sometimes, he even let himself truly believe it.

He tuned out the assholes up front and thought instead about OA, about what she had said about the family you make. He blinked furiously and grit his teeth when tears began to sting in his eyes, when he realized that he wasn’t regretful that he was being taken to Hell, but that he was being taken  _ from them. _ He didn’t mourn for the loss of his freedom, but for the loss of the family he was leaving behind. The one he had made. The one they’d all made.

And then BBA. BBA was there, at the gas station, had been following them the entire time. Had a plan to get him away. This woman that only weeks ago had been fighting for his expulsion knowing full well this would have been his fate then, as well. This woman that had, against all odds, become a friend. Family. 

The plan was half-assed and nonsensical and failed spectacularly. But she had tried to fight for him and he wished, as he was being shoved back into the van, as it rumbled to life and began to pull away, he wished that he could tell her how much that meant to him.

And then she was chasing after them, stumbling to a halt in the glare of headlights, waving around a piece of paper desperately. Steve watched in disbelief, phrases like ‘cashier’s check’ and ‘$50,000’ filtered through the roaring of the blood pounding in his ears. They pulled him out of the van and Steve thought he might float right out of his body. They released the bindings on his wrists and Steve thought he might crumple to the ground in relief. The van peeled away and they were left alone in the dark of a dimly lit gas station parking lot.

Steve had spent the majority of his life being told that he was worthless; for the majority of his life, he believed it. That night, BBA showed him exactly how much he was worth.


End file.
